Have a Nice Day!
My aunt, a Manhattanite for many years, recounted to me this true story from her early days in the Big Apple.
When a beloved pet dies in New York City, it must be properly disposed of. No backyard ceremonies permitted. Dumbwaiter or incinerator disposal is also taboo. People are expected to go to the correct facility for the cremation of their pet.
Following the demise of her old dog, my aunt, obeying the rules, carefully packed the dog's body in a brown box and tied it tightly with string. She walked the three blocks to the subway (thank God the dog was not an Afghan) and waited for the train to the nearest crematorium.
It was rush hour and the subways were jammed to the hilt. The door opened, and she squeezed herself in backward -- the box just clearing the door.
As the door began to shut, a man bounded forward and snatched the box from her hands. As the doors slid slowly closed, my aunt, now boxless and dogless, had time only to shout to the thief, "Have a nice day!"
Originally published November 14, 2002.
